He Went to Jared
by StupidityIsStupid
Summary: "He commanded you to marry him." "Uh-huh! And I said yes!" "You know you can't truly answer a commandment. You pretty much just acknowledged him." Bendy friendship with hints of Clyde/Bebe. Fluff.


**Bendy friendship. Thought I'd try something new out and take a stab at writing some Wendy and Bebe. **

**Damn are the chicks harder to write. Dx**

**Mention of Clyde/Bebe  
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**Wendy's POV.**

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><p>So, imagine this. It's a lazy Sunday morning. I'm at home playing Super Mario Brothers Galaxy on my Wii and eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (which I'm <em>pretty<em> sure defeats the whole purpose of the game system).  
>After defeating all the levels and seeing how many different ways I could kill off Luigi, I grow bored of the game and turn it off.<p>

I sit, staring at the black television screen in a vague fascination of the spinning room when, thanks to my bored-out-of-mind-on-again-off-again boyfriend (and his tech savvy 'super best friend'), the annoying melody of _Jingle Bells_ begins to echo through the empty house. In the _middle_ of August. I watch as my pet gerbil escapes its cage by pushing the latch up (a trick I had taught it during my late night boredom after watching too many episodes of America's Most Wanted.) He waddles (yes, _waddles_. He's fat, _sue_ me) towards the door and I _think_ he's actually going to ward off an attacker just like I had trained it that same night. You can _never_ be too careful where I live.  
>Instead, he plops down by my foot and nibbles on a crumb that had fallen on my neon green shoelace. The fat slob. After he's devoured the food, he <em>continues<em> to slobber on my lace as he attempts to stuff it in his mouth.

Like I said, fat slob.

The door bell rings again, accompanied by the angry sounding knocks of the potential child molester standing on my porch. I walk towards the door, accidentally jarring the gerbil from his comfortable position on my shoe, and watch as he goes flying through the living room, only to land on his back feet, glare at me, and scuttle off towards the kitchen.

I'm prepared to open the door to a gang or even the mafia, with my butter knife (that still has peanut butter on it) in my hand. Safety first. I don't look through the peep hole; I've seen Final Destination _way_ too many times to make _that_ mistake.

I finally unlock the door and slowly ease it open. I'm pushed back onto my butt as it's_ forced_ open by the _murderer_ standing above me.

She's blonde, in more ways than one, and my closest friend.

"Took you long enough," she says as she shoves her hand at my face.  
>I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be looking at, and I feel a little foolish sitting with my legs splayed on the floor and a butter knife in one hand. My gerbil has made it his duty to rid the object of any foreign material, so it's already half clean.<p>

"Help me up," I glare at her.

"Look at this!" Again, she pushes her hand into my face, like it's going to make me grow another set of eyes or something.

I see she's too far gone to assist me, so I pull myself up, once again jarring the poor gerbil from his seventh meal of the day.

I take a moment to glance at my friend's hand, as if I really have a choice. She has it raised to my face in a "He went to Jared" manner; with all of her fingers pressed tightly together and pushed towards my nose. I'm going cross eyed, so I gently move (grasp and shove) the offending object so I can get a better look. The ring isn't too fancy. There's a stone in the middle, which I'm fairly certain is opal or sun stone. Or sapphire. I didn't pay much attention in geology class.

Her knuckles are shaking and turning white from the sheer pressure being put on them, and I can literally see the ring begin to disappear into her skin. I'm curious if she can even feel it anymore.

"When did he ask you?" I wonder aloud.

She grins. "This morning. At the carnival. We were stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel. You know? The one that they just built? Well, we were on it—I didn't want to go, but Luke convinced me. Luke's the one that asked me, you know."

"Yes. I figured that out." Considering Clyde is her boyfriend of three months.

"Well, yeah. He did," she continues. "The wheel broke down, but don't worry," she holds up her other hand and her eyes widen, "we weren't at the top. We could've jumped out if we wanted to, except the gate was locked."

"So you couldn't have actually jumped out," I mention quietly.

She sighs. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't worried."

"I wasn't worried." I state in a monotone matter.

"Ok. Good. Can I continue?" Without my permission, she goes on with the story. "He looked over at me and said, 'Marry me,'."

"He commanded you to marry him," I interrupt.

"Uh-huh!" she happily exclaims. "And I said, 'Yes!'"

"You can't truly answer a commandment, you know. You pretty much just acknowledged him."

She glares and finally lowers her hands down. "When we got off, he went to the shooting range thing. Where you shoot the ducks, but they're not like real ducks. They're, like, cardboard or wood or something. But, he won and got a ring and he gave it to me."

"That's it?" I inquire. "That's….um. Romantic…."

She squeals like a stuck pig and I swear I feel my eardrums pop. "I know, right! I was in tears!"

"When's the wedding?" I ask, wondering when my ears will stop buzzing.

"Oh, that's the sad part." She enunciates the 't' in 'part' until it sounds like it's own new word.

I frown. "I didn't realize there was a sad part to this oh-so-happy story."

"Yeah. So, listen to this." I listen. "It turns out he's proposing to someone else. Like, he just wanted to make sure the ring fit, or whatever, since we, the other chick and I, have similar finger sizes." She puts her hand against mine and compares our fingers. I'm slightly disturbed by this turn of events. She pulls her hand away and twists the ring around her finger in a bored manner. "He's going to pick it up later."

I'm fairly certain he's going to have to chop off her entire hand to get it back.

"Don't worry, though. He'll be fine. She's a good person. I met her at the carnival. Wouldn't you believe it? She was right below us on the wheel."

I close my eyes. "I don't believe it."

"Then the carnie dude—the guy who takes the tickets for the haunted house? You know, the really cute one? He asked me out."

"Oh. My. God." I can barely contain my excitement.

"I know right! Then the chick and Luke started fighting and the ring dropped."

I narrow my eyes. "Dropped?"

"From the sky. Oh, yeah. They went back onto the wheel once it was fixed."

"The same way he 'asked' you?"

She nods. "Pretty much. Well, the ring fell. And I was pretty annoyed, so I, like, took it."

"You took a cheap carnival ring from said cheap carnival?"

She gasps. "Oh, no. I left that there. This is the real one."

I stare at her disbelievingly. "I'm speechless."

"Obviously not, if you're talking to me."

I sigh. "I don't even know why we're friends."  
>She smiles. "I bring joy and excitement to your life." She glances at the clock above my door. "Oh, shoot! I need to get out of here! Luke's going to be stopping by to pick up the ring."<p>

"Wait. Where is he coming to?"

She grabs my shoulders. "Here, silly. Can you explain to him what happened?" She opens the door and I tilt my head. She takes it as a 'yes'. "Thanks!"

I think I'm going to need someone to explain what just happened before I can even look at Luke.

I watch in shock, and slight boredom, as she walks calmly out the front door, into her car (I hope) and books it down the residential street. My only thought at this point, beside the fact that I'm pretty confused, is that I really have to pee after that encounter. And that carnies scare the crap out of me. Even the cute ones.


End file.
